


Voyeur

by Little_Kouhai



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: I'm Sorry, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism, cries, i'm hella good at titles though damn just look at how original that title is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 05:03:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3755449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Kouhai/pseuds/Little_Kouhai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slaine gets off in his Tharsis, and Harklight plays voyeur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voyeur

There is nothing about Slaine Troyard that falls short of perfect. Harklight is absolutely, completely, one hundred percent sure of this. He would even perhaps go as far as to say that he was very in love with him. Not that he’s going to say that out loud anytime soon, but he’s admitted it to himself, and that’s something.

Maybe Slaine reciprocates those feelings to some extent, because there’s absolutely no other reason he would have so easily given a  _yes_ to what Harklight had put forth. He was only half-serious, and he tried to be as casual as possible about it. What was  _supposed_ to be casual, however, had taken two and a half minutes to say, full of awkward pauses and stuttering while Slaine stared at him and tried to comprehend the broken words and sentence fragments Harklight was trying to make coherent. He hadn’t even been serious at first, and he’d bailed about three words in, but apparently he’d acted just a little too awkwardly about it, because the blond grilled him until he finally,  _finally_ , agonizingly had the words forced from his throat.

And Slaine couldn’t recall  _ever_ feeling his body temperature rise so drastically. Spun around in his chair to face to wall, covered his face, and even pulled his knees up to his chest. He stayed like that for a long time, but just as Harklight had turned to leave, the blond spun back around and given his reply, far louder than necessary (but he was probably plenty nervous, he couldn’t be blamed): “ _Yes!_ ”

It took a bit of tinkering, but Slaine found a way to make the visual output of a call only one-sided.

“A-and you’re certain this is all right?” Harklight asks. He may damn well be more nervous than Slaine was, and he was going to be the one  _watching_.

Not trusting his voice at all, the Terran boy simply just gives a nod before boarding his kataphrakt. There’s nothing  _to_ say, really. He’s nervous, he can’t make himself stand still, and for whatever reason, something about this situation is making him horny as hell.

Slaine really isn’t too sure what he’s supposed to be doing. Not that he hasn’t ever done  _this_ before, but he hasn’t ever had an audience. He doesn’t quite know how to begin, or even if he should try something seductive with the way he undresses himself. He quickly decides no, he really shouldn’t, that the cockpit isn’t the place for it. Maybe somewhere else, when he could have sex in his room, or even better, be fucked over his desk. But not in the cockpit of his kataphrakt.

So instead, he decides to simply remove his uniform just enough to pull out his cock and expose his stomach and chest. His face flushes an even darker hue of red, contradicting what he had assumed to be possible.

He could be completely  _screwed_ , and not at all sexually. He could probably be caught, getting off in his Tharsis with Harklight playing voyeur. And part of him—the part that still remains a ridiculously hormonal fourteen-year-old boy because of how much he had to repress it as he went through adolescence—kind of  _hopes_  he’ll get caught.

Fairly clumsily, he slicks his fingertips with saliva and brings his hand down to pinch his nipple. He can’t help letting out a sharp gasp, and he bites his lower lip in some vain attempt to silence himself.

“Stop that,” he scolds himself under his breath. He isn’t even doing this for himself, he’s doing it for Harklight, so what the hell was he doing trying to stifle himself?

He adds a bit of pressure to where he’s pinching. It hurts and it’ll probably bruise, but a whimper of pleasure passes his lips. He’s found that he enjoys pain when he knows he can make it stop when he wants it to. He squirms slightly, hips rolling as he tries to still himself. Waves of pleasure are coursing through him, down to his cock and making him even harder.

The throbbing in his groin is so much worse now, and so his hand finds its way downward to grip his shaft instead. Even the smallest touch alone would have made him whimper, so he couldn’t have even  _tried_  to suppress the humiliatingly loud moan if he wanted to. It’s been a while, three and a half weeks, so he’s already very aware of the fact that he isn’t going to last very long.

Even using the pre-cum leaking from the tip of his cock, there still comes mild pain as he slowly pumps his hand up and down. It takes every ounce of willpower he has to keep from being quick about it, but he manages by silently repeating that he isn’t even doing this for himself.

Oh, but the  _thoughts_  are only making it more difficult. Slowly, almost painfully slowly, as he tries not to think about what it would feel like having Harklight’s lips on his own, on his neck, down to his chest, sucking at his nipples roughly, biting hard enough to leave marks for a few days, eventually trailing down his stomach, and—

“Ahh!” His hips buck forward and he feels he is  _very_  close by now. And,  _fuck_ , if he really listens, he can hear a light panting coming through the speakers. It’s almost impossible to hear over his own gasps and moans—which are loud and so embarrassing, and dear God, he  _loves_  the humiliation that’s present at the back of his mind.

And he can’t help wondering what it is drawing those noises from Harklight. Is he just palming himself through his clothes, or perhaps he’s pushed his trousers aside completely? Or—somehow, Slaine finds this the most erotic possibility—maybe he’s just watching the screen and doing his best not to touch himself at all.

He lets out a particularly loud, wanton sound, something of a breathy moan. It’s the little thoughts of what his subordinate is doing in his own kataphrakt that push him over the edge.

“Nn—Ha-Harkli—ahnn!”

It takes a few moments to properly come back to his senses, chest still heaving, and he almost gets frustrated when he sees all his controls spattered in semen. He doesn’t have time to give it a second thought.

He adjusts his position so that he’s sitting up straight, and a screen shows up in front of him. “M-Milord…”

It’s not common that Slaine’s subordinate is completely speechless. Usually he has something to say, even if he bites it back and remains silent instead. It’s the look on the young man’s face that makes it clear he’s got nothing to say. And the count can add, with complete certainty, that he has never seen Harklight blushing and flustered  _ever_.

“Quite a mess I’ve made,” the blond sighs, head falling back against the seat. He’s just a little too exhausted to give enough of a damn to be embarrassed anymore.

There’s an odd kind of eagerness that suddenly shows in his eyes. “I’ll clean it up for you.”

Slaine holds up his index and middle fingers, briefly sucking on them. He may have even given a grin as well, if he still had the energy. “I-I’ve got talent other than piloting.” He’d meant to sound confident, but his voice had failed, and his statement faltered in an almost timid way. It was cute in a certain respect, but it still wasn’t what he was going for.

But if Harklight had taken any notice, he definitely didn’t show it—he simply gave a nod, and the transmission was cut.

**Author's Note:**

> i'M SORRY I WROTE THIS FOR TUMBLR USER TERRAN-SLAINE AND I'M SORRY FOR MAKING EXIST PLeaSE JUST DON'T SHOOT ME


End file.
